


A Woman's Honor

by here_lies_the_inquisitor



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, My own characters and families in the world of Westeros, War of the Seven Kingdoms, based off of the show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 22:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/here_lies_the_inquisitor/pseuds/here_lies_the_inquisitor
Summary: An intellectual and independent woman. A handsome and charismatic man. A strategically arranged marriage.All during one of the greatest wars Westeros has ever seen.Even newlyweds can't escape the waves of those vying for the Iron Throne.





	A Woman's Honor

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been working on mores for myself than anyone else. Though, since I'm posting it on here, I'm still writing for me but I want my work to be exposed to the world - it's always been my dream.
> 
> So here you go! A Game of Thrones kinda fanfic (because the characters are original but the world is that of Westeros). Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elenna Wyne (pronounced 'win') spends the morning as she typically does - reading a book and enjoying the nice morning.
> 
> But her peace doesn't last for long, as her father has some news that is far from pleasant.

Everyone knew the North to be the coldest part of the world south of the Wall, but sometimes those words just never did the true chill justice. On most days, a well-made cloak was enough to keep one warm, but on this particular morning it was one cloak plus a thick shawl underneath. My regular leather shoes had to be switched out for a heftier, and far less attractive, pair of thick skin boots. Of course, my dress was long enough to cover the untasteful things, but just wearing them was enough to dampen my mood. And the book I had thought to bring, one that analyzed the rule of the Targaryen family, would not be easily enjoyed without my will to learn, which had shrunk upon discovering that my father had something to tell me later in the day.

This new information filled my head with possibilities that left no room to allow me to comprehend the words that I had been looking forward to reading since last night’s dinner. The only reason I wasn’t able to do so last night was because of my mother, who bid me go through and single out my most beautiful dresses, for what purpose I am still unaware. Perhaps there will be a visit by another lord that my father was to inform me of? Or we are taking a trip for yet another wedding? Both of these possibilities were the only ones that could result in my having to find a flattering dress. There could be no other reason for it, right?

I spot my usual bench a few feet away from me and I stop walking once I get there. Before I lower myself onto the bench I dust off the small amount of accumulated snow and then sit, placing the book safely in my lap. Even if I did not end up reading the small amount of history I held in my hands, I did not want to squander my chance of ever skimming its pages due to them becoming damp.

In my moment of rest, I look around, taking in the sights I have gazed upon time and time again. The small tree growing only a few paces away from me, it’s branches surely bound to extend and provide shelter to this very bench in the years to come. The sound of the wind whistling through the other trees surrounding me. There is no sound of people here, as this bench was placed a small walk away from the wall of Whitehaven by my father when my parents first married. I move my body so that I can observe the backrest of the seat, slowly scanning for words etched into the wood. It takes a few moments for me to find it – two names, slightly weathered by age that bring a smile to my face.

Alarina and Tranis.  
My parents’ names.

Surely this carving was done ages ago, long before I was born. Perhaps even before Adian and Arrel, my eldest brothers, were brought into the world. I’ve brought up the topic to my mother before, but instead of telling me the story behind the small carved words in the bench, she would scold me for wandering too far beyond the wall of Whitehaven. Instead of using her motherly aura to bring me to submission of her demands, my curiosity was only sparked. If she did not tell me such stories of her and Father then I would only have to try and figure them out on my own.

I feel a hand on my shoulder before I can hear someone coming and jump back in surprise. Clutching the small knife at my waist – a gift given to me by my youngest brother Liram, once he had finally goaded the blacksmith into teaching him a thing or two about his craft. Liram had always been the more charismatic type, and Arrel had always said that he is that way from years of looking up to me.

I would love to take that as a compliment, but I know myself and I am not charismatic. I just tell people what they want to hear in the tone most appealing to them. Or, if not what they want to hear, then coating the news in sugar and presenting it in the least upsetting way possible. Charisma is different than intelligence, though my brother would beg to differ.

However, Kianne, my older and only sister, would sooner call it manipulation than charisma. And that I should belong in King’s Landing with my snake’s tongue.

The hand that had appeared on my shoulder disappeared once I became startled, and upon inspection of just who this limb could belong to, I see Arrel smiling at me. His smile is one comparable to a thief, in the way that it masks his true intentions. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if he had stolen something from someone at least once or twice.

“Don’t look so startled, sister. You’re not attractive when you make that face.”  
I immediately frown. “And you’re not attractive when you smile like a jester.”  
“Fair enough,” Arrel says through slight laughter. “Father is looking for you, and the matter seems of the utmost importance.”  
“I was aware Father wanted to speak with me, but what could be so important that he could not wait for my return at dinner?”  
“That, dear sister, is an excellent question, yet one I cannot answer I’m afraid. Perhaps you should return home and find out?”  
“Perhaps I should, but I do not wish to,” I say, gazing down at my lap and the book resting atop it. I look back up as Arrel takes the spot beside me, not bothering to brush the thin layer of snow off of the bench. Of course, he was probably much less worried about his clothing than I my dress.  
“Then I suppose I shall wait here with you and enjoy the scenery.” I don’t respond, instead adjusting the cloak resting atop my shoulders. I can see Arrel sigh out of the corner of my eye and I smile. He had never been one to stop and enjoy his surroundings – he just wanted to make me uncomfortable to the point where I would want to leave. And, as usual, it was working.

Without another word I stand up, being careful to tuck the tome under my arm to protect its pages from the newly falling snow. After all, the book wasn’t mine in the first place – instead it belonged to the Maester who too shared a penchant for the Targaryen history. I would have to read the book soon if I didn’t want him to become suspicious of its actual mundane whereabouts. Arrel stands up alongside me, wearing a victorious smirk.

Gods how much I hated that smirk. And he knew how much I hated that smirk.

Without sparing a second glance in his direction, I begin my short walk back into Whitehaven and I can hear Arrel follow me. The crunching of the snow beneath his feet wasn’t his main giveaway, though – it was the whistle that left his lips in the form of the song “The Bear and the Maiden Fair”. How typical of him. I swear he exists just to annoy and smirk and jest. With the way women flock to his bed, though, I’m still shocked that he has not yet found himself a wife. Perhaps they didn’t like his whistling?

By the time he reaches the end of his song we’re back inside the walls of Whitehaven, surrounded by traveling merchants and running children, some of which I recognize and smile at. It doesn’t take long to get close to the Great Hall, considering the fact that Arrel had proceeded to walk ahead of and pull me along by the hand. I would have taken it as yet another display of my brother’s impatience had I not realized how oddly populated the streets were on this particular day. At best, there were typically two or three merchants in Whitehaven at one time – after all, it is a rather sizable stronghold, but could never be considered a center of trade in the North. Yet, in a quick count of stalls, there were at least five, and meandering around the streets were soldiers I could recognize quite easily.

House Fyste. The unmistakable sigil of an eagle donning the solders’ armor.

I’m still looking at the men as I’m dragged up the stairs and through the doors of the Great Hall, unceremoniously running into my brother when he stops abruptly. Upon regaining my balance to keep from falling, I peek around Arrel and notice that he has spotted Laina Fyste, the only daughter of Lord and Lady Fyste. My brother drops my hand and moves to straighten out his own clothing, no doubt wishing that he had been more careful about sitting on the bench without brushing off the snow.

The last I knew, she was betrothed. I don’t think Arrel cares either way.

Without wasting a second he’s walking toward her, undoubtedly wearing his most charming smile in an attempt to steal the lady’s heart. Maybe Father wanted to talk so urgently about a possible betrothal between Laina and Arrel? But surely her other planned marriage couldn’t’ve fallen through so quickly. Regardless, Arrel had set his eyes on a simple woman whom he would likely lose interest in once she showed any sign of actual intelligence, if she even has any.

I turn the other way, opting to walk in the direction of my parents’ chambers. The curiosity I feel toward my father’s announcement is much stronger than my need to watch my brother flirt. From personal experience, it truly was not all that exciting. The only time it was entertaining was when Arrel failed and had to retreat with his tail between his legs, which was not often. The way he wielded charm was comparable to a demon itself.

On my way through the halls, I pass several servants, all of which I smile at as they walk by. It’s the least I can do for the people who help to keep my life as comfortable as it is. It doesn’t take long to get to my parents’ chambers, and an even shorter amount of time to knock for entry.

“Who is it?”  
“It’s Elenna, Father.”  
“Ah, come in. I’ve been waiting.”

I open the door and step quickly inside the room, more out of inquisitiveness rather than necessity. I spot my father sitting at his desk slowly shuffling through papers – most likely trade agreements and hunting concerns judging by how mundane the pile looked. I make my way up to him, sitting in the chair across from him and placing my jittery hands into my lap. It takes Father a few seconds before he turns his full attention to me, gently placing papers aside and folding his hands on his desk. A few seconds, though, is all I need to observe him in his determined glory, from his focused expression to his sharp features that mirror his wit.

“House Tiren is looking to cease trade with us,” he sighs. It’s in this moment I can see how tired he is, something I didn’t notice before – sunken eyes, untrimmed beard, seemingly permanent frown.  
A look of confusion crosses my face before I comment on his statement. “House Tiren has the best trapping woods in the North, they’re our main source of leather. They’ve always been successful in trade with us as of late, so why would they want to stop?”  
Father smiles at me and leans back in his chair, “smart girl. Sometimes I’m certain you pay more attention to trading matters than Adian and Arrel do.”  
“That’s because they’re not worried about having to address these issues themselves.”  
“Perhaps you’re right,” Father sighs again, “but that shouldn’t stop them from wanting to learn.”  
I pause for a few heartbeats before opening my mouth again. “What did you want me to come here for? Arrel told me you wanted to see me?”  
“Ah, yes. I wanted your mother to be here with us when we told you about the arrangement but alas, she is not, and it seems to me that you would rather not wait.”  
“Arrangement?”

The door opens behind me and my father stands up, walking out from behind his desk. I follow him with my eyes, eventually having to turn in my seat. In doing so, I see my mother talking to a man who I could not recognize. The only familiar part of him was a pin of an eagle – undoubtedly a symbol of the house to which he belongs. “Ah, Lord Fyste, may I introduce you to one of my youngest, Elenna.” Upon the mentioning of my name, I stand up and produce a short curtsey, slightly bowing my head in the direction of the lord.

“She’s quite a beautiful young woman, I can only imagine how happy Asher will be.”  
“Asher?” I respond, walking over to stand next to my father.  
“Why, your betrothed, of course. Were you not informed of this, Elenna?” Mother turns to Father with a pointed look.  
“The two of you came in the room before I could notify her of the situation,” he responds, shrinking back a bit from her gaze.

No more words are spared between the two while I glance down at the dress I’m wearing. My cloak and shawl had been removed upon entering the Great Hall with Arrel, taken by a young servant to be brought back to my room. It’s one of emerald green fabric, a personal favorite of both me and my mother. With wide sleeves and a low neckline, both decided by my sister Kianne, the dress was certainly one of my best, having never been worn before due to any past occasion not requiring a dress of such great quality. Paired simply with a belt the color of gold and a set of fine leather gloves, I was sure my mother would approve of this choice when I dressed myself this morning. And now I see why such a seemingly regular day would require such a beautiful dress.

My mother speaks up, provided there were only a few seconds of silence among the four of us. “Perhaps we should have Elenna meet this young man?”  
“I agree,” Lord Fyste responds, already turning toward the door. The rest of us follow suit, each filing out the door and into the hall. Both Father and Lord Fyste immediately start walking toward the heart of the Great Hall while my mother and I lag slightly behind. After we move a few steps, she grabs my arm and pulls me back slightly. After doing so, she grabs my shoulders to be able to look into my eyes. Her face is calm, as it always is, but that façade is easily broken once she sighs. The tone of it was almost defeat, but not quite. Perhaps it was exasperation?

“Elenna-“  
“When did you and Father agree to this arrangement?” I inquire, obviously not happy. I wouldn’t generally question their motives and decisions, but when it comes to how I’m to spend the rest of my mortal life, I would like to have a say.  
“That doesn’t matter now, my dear,” she strokes my cheek and I resist the urge to move away from her hand, “what’s done is done. I trust you’ll honor this arrangement and not bring shame upon yourself?” The way she worded it only left me one safe option on how to respond – a typical action of hers to take. “Yes Mother, I’ll honor it.”  
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, my love.”  
“Why do you have to marry me off though? I thought trade was going well and our alliances were as steady?”  
“Well, under… certain circumstances we have to take precautions and make sacrifices to ensure the survival of our House.”

My mother steps back from me, straightening out her dress while looking at something beyond me. I turn to follow her gaze and I see Liram walking toward us with a smile on his face. “Father is waiting for both of you and sent me to get you.” I look back at my mother and she nods, then proceeds to smooth out my dress for me. I take this as an indication to follow my youngest brother, which I do. Once I’m next to Liram, he puts his arm out for me to take and the other for our mother. It was always his way of acting older than he actually is, which is only five less than my own 22 years. I can still picture the days where we would play in the woods outside the walls of Whitehaven, as it feels like only yesterday.

It doesn’t take long to reach the dining hall, where both families are concentrated as a result of my unwanted, at least by me, betrothal. Once we reach the door, my father takes notice and smiles at me, beckoning me to come to his side. I do so, donning a smile on my face and a sway in my step, attempting to create my own façade of excitement. Perhaps if I can fool the people around me into thinking that I’m enjoying myself then I may begin to believe it myself. Though seemingly impossible at this point, I can only hope.

Once I’m standing by Father’s side, I examine each of the faces in front of me. My family - mother, the twins Adian and Arrel, Kianne, Liram – along with that of the Fyste family, with one face completely unfamiliar. I can only assume that he is my betrothed, Asher Fyste.

In all honesty, he’s not a bad looking man whatsoever, but unlike Arrel, looks are not purely what I pursue. I can only hope he utilizes his brain.

“Welcome to our home, Lord and Lady Fyste. I trust that your arrival came swiftly and without issue?” Father inquires, starting off the conversation on a positive note rather than getting straight into seemingly unenjoyable business. A tactic of my own that I’ve used in many negotiations to benefit my father. It seems he does indeed learn from his children after all.

“Only somewhat, I must admit. We almost had to fend off some wolves but it seemed like they weren’t yet hungry enough to put up a fight,” Lord Fyste says with a slight chuckle, yet his lighthearted tone does not stay for long. “But I did not bring my family here to talk of wolves and weather.” I visibly see my father’s demeanor change in the corner of my eye, the playful glint in his eye disappearing and instead being replaced by all seriousness. “Of course not. Ellena?” Father turns to me, prompting me to speak to our guests. A typical move in this type of situation.

“It's lovely to finally meet you, my Lord, my Lady,” I say with a small curtsey, as I had already met the Lord only minutes prior.  
“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t remember us. When we first met you, you had only been a few years old, and we haven’t seen you since, especially with not being able to make the Tiren wedding a few moons ago.” Lady Fyste offers me a kind smile. “But you’re older and far lovelier now, isn’t she, Asher?” Her son seemed ready for the question, a charming smile on his face and intense eye contact between us.

“The loveliest woman in all the seven kingdoms, apart from you, dear mother.”

I can only hope he didn’t sense my barely visible recoiling. This man was almost a copy of Arrel, except far less jester-like. I look over at Father, who seems content at his response. With an internal sigh I smile warmly at him, forcing my demeanor to be as welcoming as possible.

“You flatter me. But truly there is no other more handsome than yourself.” This was a game made for two, and two it shall be.

“I’m sure your travels have left you quite weary, so I’ve had three rooms prepared for you for the few nights leading up to the ceremony,” Mother says, having taken her place opposite of me on the other side of Father. “Liram, would you care to show Lord and Lady Fyste to their chamber? Kianne, escort Laina. And Ellena,” she looks at me with a smile, “show Asher around?”  
“Gladly, Mother,” I say with the slight bow of my head toward her. She sure was enjoying my act.

I walk down the steps toward my betrothed, a slight sway in my step and a sweet smile playing on my lips. I stop next to and face him, looking up to meet his eyes and playful smile, “where would you like to go first, my Lord?”


End file.
